masks
by not a straight trumpet
Summary: Kumiko finds herself at a masquerade ball and ends up taking off more masks than she'd have expected.


**a/n:** thanks prompt sites

seal hairpin girl exists in canon, i don't remember her name but she's a part of the trombone section

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Kumiko could feel the music of the dance pulsing through her skin, making its way into her bones and scrambling her organs like an egg beater.

 _I wonder if I still have that,_ she thought. _It'd be nice to make a batch of cookies or something._ The mask rested on the bridge of her nose, already itchy and uncomfortable. She hated the way it tightened behind her ears. People stomped beside her, all too loud.

"Oumae? Is that you?" Kumiko jumped. One of the trombones from school she'd never gotten to know lightly put her hand on her shoulder. "I didn't think I'd see anyone from Kitauji here!"

"I, uh, t-thought that nobody was supposed to know each other here, or something." Kumiko tapped her mask for emphasis.

"Do you recognize _me?"_ the trombone asked, leaning in closer. Kumiko rubbed her temples to focus.

"You used to carry around a stuffed seal," she mused. "Y-you were in my year, right?"

"Righty-o, Oumae!" the trombone chirped, flopping down on a table with her arms outspread. "I guess these masks don't mean a whole lot, huh?"

"It was actually the seal hairpin that tipped me off."

"Dammit!" The trombone snapped her fingers and clicked her tongue, but she looked as if she was about to burst out laughing. "Anyway, dance with me, will you? S' not like anyone else is here for us." She stepped closer, a pearly white grin spread across her features. "Unless you _do."_

"I don't," Kumiko said, perhaps a bit too quickly. She didn't even remember the girl's name. Little circles of light spun around the room, making Kumiko's head hurt. The trombone placed her hands on Kumiko's shoulders, gently, until she nodded and then suddenly the two of them were just inches apart. The trombone's fingers dug into the back of her jacket.

"I'd always figured."

"W-what?"

"That we'd end up here, like this, the only ones in this room who understood each other." The two found themselves swaying just slightly to the rhythm.

"C-can I tell you something?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know you." The trombone blinked up at her - it was moments like these that made Kumiko remember how 'tall' she really was - and remained expressionless for a moment until she snorted, soon falling into a full-on cackle.

"You thought I didn't know that, Oumae?" The trombone pressed a hand to her face, pushing up her mask a little bit. "I wasn't looking for a friend. We're all just strangers here, I figured, so why not be a little bit more familiar?"

"Eh?"

"Besides, I wouldn't have been able to do that to Tsukamoto. The guy was _smitten_ all the way through high school, you know. Too bad you swung the other way, eh?" Kumiko stood, stiff as a board, as the trombone playfully jabbed her with an elbow.

"I'm, uh, going to get some punch." She wobbled out of the embrace, walking away like a soldier en march to their death. People she'd never met surrounded her, suffocating, making it hard to breathe. The cheery party music acted as a bitter contrast to the way Kumiko's chest tangled her throat until she caught sight of a door, and ran for it like she'd never run before.

Unfortunately, the door didn't take her to the outdoors, or to a bathroom, but instead to what looked like some kind of lounge area. There was only one other person there, as luck would have it, a young woman with a dress that nearly reached the floor and a mask that covered most of her face so that Kumiko could only see a pair of brilliant violet eyes staring out from behind it.

"H-hey," she said, waving awkwardly to the figure, like she was a sailor on a sinking ship who'd travelled far from home and the other woman was standing guard at a lighthouse. _Or maybe,_ Kumiko chided herself, _you're just making a big deal out of this stupid party for no reason._ "Is it okay if I sit here?" The woman wordlessly patted the spot next to her, and Kumiko joined her. The couch was wonderfully soft, a welcome relief from the thundering that had driven her to nearly passing out earlier. She could still hear the music playing, distant, in the other room.

"You're not a fan of the party either, I'd imagine?" If it hadn't been for the fatigue, Kumiko might've heard something familiar in the woman's voice.

"Nope. I went here because it sorta seemed like something out of those cheesy romance novels I used to read in high school - y'know, the ones with the manic pixie dream girl, where everything turns out alright in the end?" The woman stiffened.

"I used to read those, too. Didn't everyone?"

"Probably." Kumiko twiddled her thumbs nervously. Then, as if controlled by some outside force, she felt herself blurt out words she didn't mean to share. "Some girl from my high school came here and danced with me and it was . . . weird."

"Hmm?"

"I know it sounds really, 'really' stupid, but I guess I came here to . . . . get away from my life, if that makes sense?" Kumiko pressed her face in her hand and pulled down her mask to rub her temples, groaning. The woman watched without a word. "I mean, we're all wearing actual _masks,_ for god's sake! It s-should be like a book! If someone from my past is really supposed to _haunt me_ or whatever, shouldn't it at least be someone I _know?"_

"I'm a stranger," the woman offered, though Kumiko could hear her voice hitch. "I wouldn't mind listening to whatever you had to say, whatever you were expecting."

"Hmm- yeah, okay. Let's set some ground rules, though, okay? We don't say our names or any way of seeing each other again, and we keep the masks on."

"That sounds fair." The woman extended a hand, and Kumiko shook it firmly, ignoring the warm tingle it sent shooting through her arm. "I'll start. I came here because my job's everything I could've dreamed of, but I'm still not happy. I'm not sure how to fix that, either." The woman ran a hand through her hair, ebony and neatly tied up in a bun. "It sounds so selfish when I say it out loud, doesn't it?" she laughed.

"No, I get it."

"I've reached every goal I'd ever dreamed of before even hitting twenty-five, but I'm still here and I'm not sure where to go from here. I wanted an escape, but it was just . . . loud. God, it was so loud." The woman paused. "It's your turn, now."

"Oh, r-right." Kumiko took a deep breath, plucking at the cushions of the couch. "I never figured out what my dream _was,_ really. I guess that ended up kicking me in the ass later, though." She let out a shaky laugh. "I'm scared. I don't know what I was looking for here, but it wasn't . . . this. It wasn't some girl I was supposed to know trying to dance with me until I ended up here in the lounge, pouring my heart out to a complete stranger." Kumiko exhaled. "Whew, that was a lot. I haven't told anyone that much in a long time."

"I can tell." The woman fiddled with the ends of her dress.

"Eh?"

"You're . . . distant, aren't you?"

"I guess." Kumiko pulled her legs close to her chest. "Someone I used to b-be friends with - more, really, I guess there's no harm in telling you that - said she'd always wanted to pull off that good-girl skin. She thought I was hiding something, like I was always putting on a mask. Ironic, huh?"

"Was she right? The girl?"

"Yeah." Kumiko tried her best to stare down at the carpet, to avoid the woman's captivating gaze, because she knew that if she spent one more minute looking at her she'd know what her gut had already told her. "She was right, Reina." Reina let out a sigh and pulled down her mask so that it hung loosely around her neck.

"It was worth a shot," she murmured.

"Yeah." Kumiko still couldn't quite meet her eyes, chuckling bitterly. "I don't really want to stay strangers."

"I don't, either." Reina leaned in, tentatively, looking as if she expected to be cut off any moment. Kumiko didn't move, didn't say a word, as Reina slowly reached out and took off her mask, resting it on the table. "It's a shame we had to meet again like this. I'd have wanted something less . . . cliché."

"Me too, Reina." Kumiko's world was spinning, her eyes watering just slightly.

"What's this going to mean in the morning, Kumiko?" Kumiko had forgotten how wonderful her name sounded on Reina's tongue.

"I d-don't know." Kumiko wrapped her arms around Reina and held her close, and she hoped against all hope that she wouldn't have to leave behind this little room where she'd taken off more masks than she knew.

It was easier for her than she'd expected, to believe in happy endings again.

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 **a/n:** i've been writing a lot of these kinds of angsty future fics and most of them aren't very good but this one was okay so i posted it


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